


Challenges Met

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-19
Updated: 2007-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:10:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for xiuxi</p>
    </blockquote>





	Challenges Met

**Author's Note:**

> Written for xiuxi

 

 

Lancelot was quite happy standing in the background. He'd never been a politician in his own time, and this new world was even more confusing and strange. He'd learned a great deal in the nearly two years since Merlin had awakened them, but mostly he'd learned what he didn't want to have to do.

Sir Bedivere made a much better Vice President, anyway.

No, Lancelot was quite happy to be Lance Champion, head of the Secret Service. He was happy dealing with security matters, ordering other men into their proper positions, and dealing with the day-to-day risks for his lord. President. He was still becoming accustomed to thinking of his king in new terms - Arthur still seemed the same, for all that the trappings of power had different names.

Watching his king become the president of this land had been a fascinating experience. The same tactics that had worked so long ago to lure the lords onto Arthur's side, had worked just as well with the masses of people who watched his speeches.

Throughout it all, Lance had stood beside and just behind his lord and lady, guarding them from all comers.

Which was, ironically, what caused all of the problems in the first place.

None of them had dreamed that the close relationship that Lance had to both Arthur and Gweneviere would be the cause of so much media attention. The gossip columnists had started first, whispering in thinly veiled commentary about the way that the Secret Service officer was always present at their sides, with pictures of him handing the First Lady out of her limo, or him holding a hand out to steady the President when he stepped out of a helicopter.

Then the journalists began to investigate, and more pictures - of Lance having dinner with Arthur and Gweneviere, of him sitting with them during events, of him dancing with the First Lady when Arthur was unavailable - began to circulate. The headlines began to imply that there was more to the relationship than just a job.

Arthur handled the situation as best he could, but was hampered by the trappings of his own story. During his campaign, the media had taken hold of the names, and begun creating a new American fairy tale from the King Arthur mythology. Now, comparisons to the previous myth were flying thick and fast.

Lance finally took matters into his own hands. "Arthur."

The President looked up from the newspaper, sighing heavily. "Lance."

"This is getting out of hand." He took the seat that Arthur gestured him towards, putting his elbows on his knees and leaning towards the other man. "I should resign."

"No."

Lance's head whipped up. "No? But -"

"You're the only man we trust, Lancelot du Lac. You have been my right hand for long years. Gwen agrees with me." Arthur smiled, reaching out to clasp Lance's hands. "This is a trifling matter that will pass with time. Something more interesting will happen soon, to topple us from the media's pedestal, and we will return to life lived normally."

"Arthur -" Lance stared down at their clasped hands. "It cuts too close to the truth."

"Which truth?" Dancing brown eyes laughed at the consternation on the knight's face.

"Both of them, as well you know." Lance squeezed Arthur's hands. "I was villain once before; it will not bother me to be cast in such a light again. If it makes it easier for you and Gwennie, I would allow myself to be cast out and imprisoned."

"I could not allow that. You are ours, and we are yours. It doesn't matter if the public can understand or not. Our friends do." Arthur's smile widened. "Even your own son supports us. He is doing fine work on our behalf, charming the press with his innocent eyes and guileless smile."

"Galahad is a good boy, who knows his duty is to protect you and Gwen. I trust him with that task, but I also believe that it would make his job far easier if I were to step down."

"That will only lend credence to their claims. Do not do that, my friend. Stand firm beside us, and all shall pass." Arthur looked up as soft footsteps entered the room.

"My lords, what secret councils do you hold tonight?" Gweneviere's smile was for them both, her blue eyes warm.

"Not secret, my lady." Lance pulled away from Arthur to offer the First Lady his chair, but she waved him down again. She perched on the arm of Arthur's chair, waiting quietly. "I have merely - "

"He's trying to leave us." Arthur's blunt tone broke Lance's explanation, and forced him to close his mouth, looking worried. "He's trying to be noble and step away, to protect us."

"Do you not care anymore, Sir Lancelot?" Gweneviere's frown cut through him, and he sighed, closing his eyes.

"I care, my lady, far too deeply. I would not cause you pain."

"Your leaving will cause us both far more pain than these petty accusations." She stood, stepping closer to run her fingers through Lance's short-cropped blond curls. "Are you not my Champion, Lancelot of the Lake?"

"I am whatever my lady wishes me to be." He bent his head, and she leaned down to press a kiss to his hair.

"Then you shall stay, and continue to be our champion. I would not trust any other man at our sides." She smiled serenely as Arthur joined her, his fingers ruffling Lance's hair.

"There. Now you have the same answer from both of us. You cannot resign. If you leave us, we would simply have to do something drastic to get you back." He laughed, a booming cheerful sound that filled the overly ornate room, and Lance looked up at them.

They stood over him, his most important people; his liege and his lady, his friends - his family. He nodded slowly, as they allowed their hands to trail down, squeeze his shoulders. He rose then, to capture their hands and smile, genuinely. "I am caught. You are both far too powerful and convincing. We will allow my son to charm and delight the press, and we will ride this storm out together."

Arthur slung an arm around Lance's shoulders. "Good. I would never be able to sleep comfortably again, without you watching over us."

"Indeed." Gweneviere took Lance's arm, resting her head on his shoulder. "It would be quite lonely without you." She smiled coyly up at both men, blue eyes glittering. "And however would Arthur and I explain to the child?"

"Child?" Lance shook his head. "What child?"

"Gwennie is pregnant." Arthur's grin nearly split his face. "A boy!"

"Congratulations." Lance hugged them both, joy filling his heart. "It will do us all good to have a child around us again. What are you planning on naming him?"

"That's for you to decide." Arthur slapped Lance on the back. "We won't be telling those vultures of journalists this, but you're the father."

"Me?" Lance's eyes were wide, and he glanced at them both, muscles tensing up.

"Arthur cannot have children, Lance." Gwen touched her husband's arm, sympathy evident in her eyes. "And I have been becoming quite desperate for a baby."

"She wanted to ask you, but I told her that I didn't think you'd mind." Arthur was still smiling and relaxed, and Lance's tension eased a little.

"No...no, I don't mind." Lance held his hands out, and smiled when they both accepted. "I would do anything for either of you, you know that."

"Then come and celebrate with us." Gwen tugged at his hand. "Bedivere has planned a fine meal for us, and all of our knights will join us. A private party, just for those of us who understand."

"I am honored, my lord, my lady." Lance pressed kisses to both of their cheeks, and allowed himself to be led from the room.

He knew his place - beside and just behind his king and queen - and he was secure there. They would not allow it any other way.

 


End file.
